


Smokefall's Three-Sentence Follies

by smokefall



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bath Sex, Carmilla - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Genderswap, M/M, Multi, Other, Pegging, Rule 63, Run-On Sentences, Spitroasting, Tentacle Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Xeno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokefall/pseuds/smokefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ill-advised and often ridiculous results of asking for three-sentence porn prompts on Tumblr, somewhat tidied up for AO3. I'm trying to get better and more confident at porn, so feedback is very welcome!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the lark tentacular

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vouksen asked: cosette/eponine where cosette has tentacles

‘Cosette, how can it be?’ Eponine breathes, though a part of her is not surprised: she has known all along that Cosette harboured some queer secret, something to do with water; Cosette had never been allowed the luxury of a bath, when they were children, but her skin would shimmer strangely in the rain.

That strangeness had only spurred her to taunt the girl harder -- now, however, the cards are all in the hands of Cosette as she leans in closer through the steam that rises off the brimming bath, and circles Eponine with long, searching tentacles that glimmer in the water, iridescent, translucent, somehow as full of radiant beauty as her angelic face.

And then Cosette tightens her tentacled grip, a surprising strength thrumming through those ghost-coloured limbs, and Eponine can no longer see what they are doing as Cosette clasps their bodies together and catches her lips -- but she can feel them, exploring her every inch, kissing at her flesh with their suckers; she is thrumming in response, she is biting down on Cosette’s lip as the tentacles slide between her legs, as Cosette fills her -- once, twice -- and all the strange pulsing wildness of the moment sweeps away -- if only for that moment -- what’s past.


	2. a rose in moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sathinfection asked: cosette/eponine carmilla AU

The events of last night are cast over as if by a pall of grey smoke, now, but I shall essay to recount them here, for never have I passed a night quite like it; I know it was no dream, at least: it would, perhaps, be easier to claim that it was, but the marks on my breast would prove me false—!

How should I put what I felt into words— the shifting of moonlight and shadows about me, the rising and falling of my consciousness on waves of sleep, as a ship rises and falls on the swells of the sea, the hunger that surged in my blood even as I fought it: these all offer clues as to the feeling, and yet fall pitiably short of the mark; I wanted, I did not know what it was I wanted, and when a shaft of cloud-torn moonlight revealed our mysterious guest standing in my doorway I cried out for her— called her by the name which sprang suddenly from my lips: Eponine, Eponine— for I knew her then, with the knowledge that comes in dreams; she only smiled, and with another shifting of the shadows she was at my bedside, and with another she was sat astride me.

She pressed trembling against me; I felt her kisses glow against my cheek, my neck, and her words murmur along my skin: ‘Ah, Cosette, how your wild blood shines out to me—’ and with that she slid her head lower, lips hot above my heart, teeth sharp and penetrating, and all thinking ceased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone should [read Carmilla](http://www.gutenberg.org/files/10007/10007-h/10007-h.htm).


	3. please, please, please, let me get what I want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sathinfection asked: courfeyrac/marius 80s bildungsroman lesbianssssss

Courfeyrac – who had realised something was wrong when, about four bars into _This Charming Man_ , Maria was still nowhere in sight – ditched her date and went to look for her friend, hoping that the latter hadn’t done anything melodramatic -- or, at least, more melodramatic than usual.

She found Maria on the bleachers, prom dress crumpled around her in a heap of black netting, and looking so forlorn that Courfeyrac did not have the heart to tease her, and went straight in for the kiss instead.

‘Wha--’ started Maria, but then her mouth was too full of Courfeyrac’s tongue to say anything; they were a tangle of lips and hands and ruffled satin, it was awkward and glorious, the metal seats hard and cold at her back, Maria’s panties warm and wet under her touch; prom, Courfeyrac decided, could go fuck itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is ridiculous and I don't care; please feel free to imagine Courfeyrac as played by Molly Ringwald and Maria by Ally Sheedy.


	4. lord knows it would be the first time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for sathinfection's fandom_stocking last year - way more than 3 sentences, and not porn, but this seems like the best place to put it. maybe, idk, leave me alone.
> 
> more 80s lesbian courfius AU with added apocalypse and xmas.

'Good news, for a change,' yelled Bousset, pelting up the street. 'The zombies are not going to be a problem any more!' 

'That is because they're too busy being eaten by giant ants,' said Joly, following behind. 'And oh my god, we got close to them, we're probably already dying from toxic pheromones.'

Cou, watching their approach from the roof of Corinthian Records, called down into the building for someone to let them in. 'We'll risk it, Joly,' she said. 'Where's R?'

'Hell,' said Joly, reaching the door and hammering on it, 'he was right behind us.'

R wandered into view, dragging a heavy backpack. 'Looting the liquor stores, by the look of it,' said Cou.

'It's Christmas Eve and we're going to die,' said R. 'It's a piss-poor apocalypse - but I always said the world was a sad excuse for a B-movie. All we need is a radioactive girl built in a lab to complete the party - hey,' he shouted at the sky, 'hear that, you cheap hack? That's an official request. Anyway, I've got a bag full of vodka, eyeliner and premium dirt grass, so let's get blazed and go out like the fucking cliches we are.'

Cou looked across the buildings. In the distance, a blood-black antennaed head reared up over the rooftops. 'Shut up and get inside, R.'

 

The world, or what passed for it these days, had started to end on the first night of winter break - just in time to ruin Christmas. Cou and the rest of the ABC Club, at least, had the record store decor to prop up their festive spirit - they'd been there on a cheer-Maria-the-fuck-up mission when it happened. There was a plastic tree, enough black tinsel to house all the Goth-spiders of Mirkwood, and fake snow heaped in the windows (now mostly boarded up). They'd had to kill the fairy lights, which seemed to attract zombies, but given that Capitalist America had already fallen, Enjolras had relaxed his embargo on modern Christmas hits.

Cou came down from her rooftop shift to find Joly proposing spin the bottle, and R arguing with Jehan over the shop's record player. 'Morrissey is fittingly morose, I'll give you that,' he was saying, 'but we don't know how much longer the power's going to stay up, and I will not let myself die a hideous formicidaen death without the tasteless irony of 'Ant Rap' resounding in my head.' Jehan threw up his arms in despair and R brandished _Prince Charming_ triumphantly.

'Come on,' said Joly, 'who's in? Bousset, me, Jehan, Cou, obviously -'

'Maria, you've gotta,' said Cou, aiming a gentle shoulder-punch at the black-clad bundle of sulkitude who was hunched over the counter. 'Just because Cosette skipped town before things went to hell doesn't mean you shouldn't get a kiss on Christmas Eve.'

Maria glared daggers at no one in particular.

'She's definitely alive,' said Bousset, hopefully. 'Probably definitely.'

'Vodka,' said Maria, holding out a fishnetted arm.

 

They played. Because the universe seemed set on adding insult to injury, Cou's spins didn't land on Maria once, although she had kisses off R, Joly, Ferre and Joly again. They ended up ditching the bottle and drawing stripes and hearts onto each others' faces as if they were going dancing, or into battle, or both. Maria didn't exactly need the additional eyeliner, but Cou drew long Clockwork-Orange lashes down her cheek anyway. Maria refused to draw on Cou's face, muttering that she'd make a mess of it. She grabbed a near-empty vodka bottle instead and downed the dregs, looking utterly miserably beautiful. 

'Maria Fucking Pontmercy,' Cou said, 'if you wanted to make a mess of my face, I would be the last fucking person to complain.'

'I'm a virgin,' said Maria, master of the embarrassing non-sequitur. Then she passed the empty bottle to Cou. 'Spin it right this time, would you?'

'Okay, but I get multiple tries,' Cou said, and span.

There was screaming in the distance, but in Corinthian Records there was -

\- there was Christmas.


	5. paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> twofrontteethstillcrooked asked for angry Prouvaire fic, and uhm yes

'I only despair,' said Jean Prouvaire, lifting his head momentarily from between the angel's thighs, 'that the world remains in the choke-hold of such dull souls, such mean intellects-' he interrupted himself then to return his tongue to its labour, for she tasted of figs and honey.

'No, I don't despair, I rage,' he interjected, raising his mouth once more to the air, his eyes to the jewelled and incense-laden garden where lithe and heavenly bodies sported and reclined; 'that artists die - and so we should, and die well, I would not resent that in itself - but that cowards live, that - unnh -' and here he broke off again, as the angel at his back replaced tongue with prick; his voice lost its coherence then - but none of its force.

He came in an ecstasy of sweetness and fury which, this being paradise, was an eternity unto itself.


	6. What could be greater?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an ANCIENT askbox prompt from sathinfection, for 'Cosette pegging Marius while dressed as Napoleon', which I only recently filled - shame on me, because it was the best prompt ever.

Marius trembled at the sight of Cosette readying herself for him, wilder and more perfect than he could ever have anticipated: her hair out of sight but for a short shock of dark curls, spilling onto her temples from under that resplendent bicorne; coat bluer than a midnight in June, boots gleaming black and those - breeches - unbuttoned to reveal — !

"Turn around, my dear Josephine, and get on your knees," she commanded, every part the Emperor, and Marius all but fell, only to have his chin grasped and lifted by a steady hand, his gaze arrested for a second time by the splendour of Courfeyrac, flowing white robes hitched up to his waist and red cap framing a look of earnest delight as he curled a hand into Marius’s hair and said: “what is it you want, citizen?”

"To be - ah —" Marius gasped as Cosette, who had finished with oil and fingers, struck into him, and all he could do was fall forward and take Courfeyrac between his lips, and let his whole being fill up with a perfect - if momentary - union of Empire and Republic.


End file.
